


Zombiestuck

by sunbreaksdown



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Horror, Cannibalism, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gore, M/M, Suicide, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:43:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbreaksdown/pseuds/sunbreaksdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, shit,” Sollux says, making a commendable effort to break the silence. “Looks like LL's the first one to become a zombie. Did anyone have money on that?”</p><p>(They forgot, after a while, that destroying and recreating the universe wasn't ever going to be the long and short of it. They thought they had seen the worst at the tender age of thirteen, thought that they'd been dragged through trials enough, and never suspected that their new world would be threatened by something that didn't revolve around making heroes of themselves.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zombiestuck

     “Well, shit,” Sollux says, making a commendable effort to break the silence. “Looks like LL's the first one to become a zombie. Did anyone have money on that?”

     There's a swarm of nervous snickering throughout the room, entirely inappropriate, which is soon subdued by a sharp look from Kanaya. It melts away into a series of throat-clears and apologetic coughs, though from the back of the living room, Terezi may well grumble and hand eight bucks over to Vriska. Rose, sat on her sofa, heaves a great sigh and tries to shift in order to get more comfortable, only to have her shoulders held firmly in place by Kanaya, who's doing her best to tend to the wound on her forearm. She tilts her head back, resting it against the sofa's backrest, and closes her eyes so that she doesn't have to feel like a specimen in a lab as everyone warily crowds around her, trying to catch a glimpse of _something_.

     “ _Sollux_ ,” Aradia hisses under her breath, though the whisper is no quieter than her usual voice, devoid entirely of anything like subtlety. “Don't say things like that. I'm sure Rose is going to be just fine!”

     For once, Rose will take the optimism. It would be difficult to imagine her agreeing any more with Aradia, because really, nothing's happened to put her at risk of infection. Perhaps leaving a window open wasn't the smartest idea in the world, what with the current situation, but Rose wouldn't describe her wound as much more than a mere graze. She can't even make out a pattern of bite marks imprinted in her skin, that's how unremarkable it all is. From the back of the room, she hears Gamzee laugh, though she's certain it's for an entirely unrelated reasons, then hears Tavros rush to shush him. Not that Rose minds. Hell, that's how things _should_ be right now. Everyone should be talking and laughing and arguing with one another, because a house full to the brim with sixteen young adults, comprising of two separate races altogether, should never be this overwhelmingly quiet.

     John and Karkat should be bickering over who gets to be first in command, with Karkat swearing far too much and John not taking it seriously at all, and Terezi and Vriska should be flinging around insults that were probably funny when they were all sixteen, but not so much four years on. Instead, it's painfully quiet in there; the silence is worse than the assault Rose suffered. She can practically hear the beads of sweat roll down Equius' face.

     “Aradia's right. The creature's teeth barely broke my skin, so it doesn't seem that the chance of infection is particularly high. And, it might just be the impression I'm getting, but as far as I can tell, my skin's yet to fall off in clusters, and I'm being perfectly coherent. Perhaps more coherent than before, actually, considering that no one else sees fit to talk right now,” Rose says, cracking one eye open and glancing around the room. She surprises herself by calling them _creatures_ , rather than zombies, as everyone else, news broadcasts included, has been doing so for long months, but Rose supposes that the title is just too ridiculous. And if she entertains something as ridiculous as bowing to the notion of zombies, then she'll be taking it all too seriously, and everything really will be over.

     They forgot, after a while, that destroying and recreating the universe wasn't ever going to be the long and short of it. They thought they had seen the worst at the tender age of thirteen, thought that they'd been dragged through trials enough, and never suspected that their new world would be threatened by something that didn't revolve around making heroes of themselves.

     “Oh, now I'm reassured,” Karkat snaps, arms folded across his chest, shoulders hunched. He keeps subconsciously glancing towards the windows every few moments, as if something's going to have wormed its way inside without them having heard a shattering of glass, a creaking of steadily decaying bones. “Because infection doesn't happen that easily! That's why the majority of this fucking planet has become one gigantic heinous brood of the undead, no offence Kanaya, in less than a quarter of a sweep! Because it's a fucking complicated procedure that requires surgical precision, time and devotion. Now I'm convinced.”

     “Karkat—” John begins, voice strained. He places a hand on Karkat's shoulder, trying to subdue him, because although John most likely wants to snap at Karkat for being so blunt and pessimistic about things, especially when those things involve Rose, he can't blame him. Not entirely. It's been short hours since the last flood of zombies hit them, days since they stopped believing that there'd be an end to it, weeks since they've slept properly; Karkat's stressed. They all are. “Look, let's just calm down and really think about this, okay? I mean, Rose doesn't seem like a zombie! She's just... just being _Rose_. We'll figure out how to deal with this, okay?”

     Rose groans, covering her face with both hands.

     “If I might make a suggestion,” Kanaya interjects, paying no heed to Karkat's notion of not taking offence, “Perhaps we should not speak about Rose as if she is not, in fact, in the room with us, currently having an incredibly minor wound tended to. Really, at this point, I believe she is just making a fuss for no reason, and perhaps secretly enjoys the attention.”

     Kanaya doesn't lift her eyes as she speaks, doesn't glance around the room. She simply stares at the graze on Rose's arm before it disappears under an avalanche of bandages, voice not as strong as it ought to be.

     Really, Rose thinks, they're all taking this far too seriously. This is the second time the end of the world has been and gone, and there shouldn't be that great a difference between underlings and zombies.

*

     Four months ago . . . 

> tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG]
> 
> TT: Hello.  
> TT: Rumour has it that you've been looking for me, Harley.  
> GG: oh my gosh rose!!  
> GG: yes i have  
> GG: where have you been?  
> TT: If you genuinely do care for all of the gory details, I was taking a shower. I apologise if I luxuriated in the hot water too long for your liking, but I assure you, I went to no effort to dry my hair.  
> GG: i hate it when youre so nonchalant about things rose  
> GG: ive really been worried about you you know :(  
> TT: Oh.  
> TT: This again?  
> GG: fuck you  
> GG: just  
> GG: fuck you rose  
> GG: :(  
> TT: ...  
> GG: ugh noooo dont give me those three dots again  
> GG: and dont explain to me that theyre actually called ellipses and they serve an important grammatical function because i KNOW that  
> GG: im just  
> GG: so worried about you. about you and kanaya and everyone......  
> GG: and youre acting like its no big deal  
> GG: like you dont even care about us  
> TT: Jade.  
> TT: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you resort to swearing, though our inner Karkat is prone to come out from time to time.  
> TT: Can't you see that the media is blowing this out of proportion? They want this to scare people, Jade. They want to sell newspapers, they want people to tune in, because there's nothing like the end of the world to drive up sales. People want to know how they're supposedly going to die and when.  
> TT: And don't even get me started on how all the Evangelical channels have been treating the issue.  
> GG: i know youre going to say something like  
> GG: "Harley, please, it's just a few isolated incidents," again or.....  
> GG: whatever!! but its not rose. did you hear about what happened in varna?  
> GG: that was a WHOLE CITY rose. a whole one  
> TT: Admittedly, yes.   
> GG: and???  
> TT: And what?  
> GG: errrrrrr and what do you think about it now?  
> TT: What should I think about it? Should I be worrying?  
> GG: ok now im just going to  
> GG: ...  
> GG: because you are being infuriating rose!!!  
> TT: I honestly don't mean to. It's simply part of the Lalonde legacy.  
> TT: But I'm being serious here, Jade. I know you're wont to ramble on and worry about all manner of things, and sometimes your fretting is best ignored, but I trust you. You still know things, even without the clouds, and so if you say that it's time to start worrying, I'll listen.  
> TT: I can't promise how adequately I can, as they say, freak the fuck out, but I'll do my best.  
> TT: ummmm yes it is time to listen to me rose!  
> TT: it was time to listen WEEKS ago  
> TT: well actually if youre just listening now this was probably the perfect time for you to start listening  
> TT: I was just about to say as much.  
> TT: Do you want to come over? I get the impression that you feel there's safety in numbers, and it's usually smarter to be with Terezi and Vriska, rather than against them.  
> GG: oh  
> GG: yes i think that is actually a good idea  
> GG: i knew there was a reason i was so persistent with you!  
> GG: ermmmmm.....  
> TT: Yes.  
> GG: you dont even know what i was going to ask!  
> TT: You want to bring Feferi with you. And you may.  
> GG: thanks rose :)  
> GG: we will see you all soon!  
> GG: gosh im so excited :D  
> GG: even er...... considering the circumstances  
> TT: You're welcome, Harley.  
> TT: I'll see you soon.
> 
> tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering gardenGnostic[GG]

     As soon as she ends the conversation, Rose closes her laptop. She digs the heel of her palm against her forehead, unable to escape the way that the television blares in the background, flashing up with photos from all around the globe, playing out reports from the infected areas over and over again. She's been watching the news. Of course she has; Rose might tell the others as much as she tells herself that this is nothing worth worrying about, nothing more than sensationalism that'll be over and done with and neatly contained in no time at all, but she knows that it isn't that simple. Letting out a shaky breath, she opens her laptop back up, and carefully begins typing out an email.

>   
> To: easybreezy@bmail.com, ironic_underscore@bmail.com, 0kwiththisaddress@wahoo.com, chargingfires@dotmail.com, 2ollux@captornet.com, hateactually@captornet.com, shipurr33@dotmail.com, e.zahhak@aim.net, motherhonker@dotmail.com, seadwwelling@aim.net  
> CC: maryamdesigns@colourcreations.biz, sp8dery@wahoo.com, just1c31sbl1nd413@wahoo.com, rifleattheready@bmail.com, m__ermaid@dotmail.com  
> Subject: An invitation.
> 
> In an effort to avoid any melodrama, I'll get to the point. I'm starting to think that Jade is onto something. I'm certain you all know what I'm talking about, because she is nothing if not thorough when it comes to getting her point across.  
> Let's be logical about this. I have the biggest residence by far, and it's fairly remote, given the surrounding forest. There are already four of us here, and Jade and Feferi are on their way. Bring what you can, what you think will be useful, but don't let any of it slow you down.
> 
> Rose.

*

     She is still on the sofa, a day later.

     Nobody knows how it started. It isn't like in the movies, and there aren't any scientists working away, bound to create an antidote at the last conceivable moment. Rose isn't going to be saved. She knows this, and has long since accepted it. Maybe that's why she never fretted as the others did, never treated the situation with the weight that it deserved. Maybe she knew it would all amount to nothing, and that she'd end up like this, hair plastered to her face, bones aching, no matter what she did.

     Nobody knows how it started, and nobody knows how the process works, exactly, but Rose tries to unfold every aspect in her mind as she goes through it, as if that will somehow make it any easier. The coughing came first, like she was trying to dislodge something from her chest. The sweating started up almost straight away, due in part to the severity of the coughing, and then her eyes were rolling back in her skull, vision flickering through various shades of grey, never quite settling on black or white. That was tolerable. That she could deal with, and she told herself that she'd gone grimdark before, and so she could certainly deal with that, because that was nothing. That was a fever, at worst.

     But now Rose doesn't tell herself anything. There's no space in her mind for anything that isn't happening to her, and god, she swears that her tendons themselves are fraying, making her muscles pull away from bone. It's as if someone is dragging their nails across her bones, scraping away parts of her that they should never be entitled to touch, and she feels every last drop of it, from every white-hot tear of pain to every pin-prick. She fits on the sofa, gripping at her arms, desperate to keep hold of her mind, if nothing else. It doesn't feel as if she's becoming a zombie, though she swears she hears people say as much in hushed whispers around her. It feels as if she is _changing_ , but as if the change has always been a part of her.

     Kanaya stays with her the entire time. Rose feels her press damp towels to her forehead, trying to cool her, and some part of Rose is certain that she must howl, or at least screech out loud, as she rolls onto her side, face buried in Kanaya's stomach. Kanaya's arms wrap around her, and no matter how much her body already burns, Rose somehow manages to find it as soothing as she can find anything in that moment. If she clings to Kanaya tightly enough, then perhaps the whole process will reverse itself. Rose doesn't really believe that, because her body has already torn itself beyond shreds, but she holds onto her as best she can regardless.

     And then, thirty hours after first being bitten, it stops.

     The pain subsides, and though Rose feels washed out, she does not feel weak. Groggily sitting up, she presses one hand to her right temple; if she has not been bitten by a zombie, then she is either hungover, or has recently come into contact with a truck that was hurtling towards her. She tries to clear her throat. It comes out as a low, stretched out groan, almost comical in how zombie-like it sounds, and everyone around her takes a step back.

     “Oh, for fuck's sake,” she grumbles, and is inwardly pleased when her lower jaw doesn't fall away as she tries to form words, “I'm not going to _eat_ any of you. I feel fine.”

     And although she claims to feel fine, and manages to believe it herself to an extent, because torture would feel fine, after what she's just been through, no one else takes her at her word. Dave says that maybe, just maybe, she should stay where she is, sat on the sofa. He doesn't add in the part about it being so that they can all keep an eye on her, but Rose knows what he's getting at clearly enough. Feferi says that Rose _must_ be hungry, and leads Jade by the hand into the kitchen, as if they think they can distract her with food. Terezi informs her of how _hilarious_ the noises she was making in her zombiefester throes were, and John sure is glad that Rose is over the worst of it now.

     Eridan grumbles something in the corner. Rose doesn't doubt that he's wanted her culled since the moment she was bitten. Aradia thwacks him around the back of the head for it, and Rose finds that she has even less energy than usual to begin to care about the slight.

     Nepeta tries bringing optimism into the matter at hand, and Equius stands silently in the corner, possibly operating under the policy of not saying anything at all, seeing as he has nothing nice to say. The others seem to be taking it as well as can be expected, and they hover around the room, hands shoved into their pockets. Rose wishes she could be surprised when it's Vriska who makes a fuss, but she barely even manages to roll her eyes when she pulls herself to her feet and heads over.

     “So you're a zombie now, huuuuuuuuh?” Vriska asks, leaning in close, grinning. There's something in her eyes that tells Rose that she doesn't _want_ to grin, not really, but she does so nonetheless, and it's as cold as ever. “That's weird! You don't look any different. Maybe a bit paler, but man, it's always hard to tell with you humans!”

     _You humans_ , Vriska says, like she hasn't seen hundreds upon thousands more humans in the last seven years than she has trolls. In some ways, Rose is grateful that Vriska's inspecting her as she seems to be doing so, because she's yet to cross the room and stand before the mirror, and she has never been fond of being kept in the dark. Rose glances down at her hands, and cannot immediately say that there's anything wrong with them. They're a bit puffier than usual, perhaps, but that's most likely her imagination actively looking for things that are wrong.

     Vriska places a hand to her forehead, tilting her head back. Rose makes a vague effort to bat at Vriska's wrist, but doesn't really care to knock Vriska away completely. They've been through this song and dance so many times over the years that Rose doesn't even feel compelled to shudder at her touch anymore. She sees Kanaya fix her eyes on the two of them, but simply shakes her head a little, telling her that it's fine. She's got this.

     “I kind of wonder how the hell you're supposed to tear off chunks of human flesh, though!” Vriska muses out loud, wholly cheerful. Without letting it reflect in her eyes, Rose gives her a wide, toothy grin. She won't allow Vriska of all people to make her feel even more shit about this than she already does. “Lame. They still look blunt to me!”

     Vriska moves her hand from Rose's forehead in order to jab a finger at her teeth.

     It turns out to be one of the more stupid things Vriska's ever done in her life, which is saying something. There's an uncomfortable ripple moving out to the edges of the room, and everyone shifts, not sure how to react; not sure whether they should pull Rose back, whether they should even gasp, before Rose realises what's happened. Her mouth floods with a coppery blue tang, trickling down to the back of her throat and making her eyes water with the need to choke on it. Rose allows her gaze to flicker downwards. There's Vriska's finger, caught between her rows of flat teeth, and though Rose doesn't even recall moving to bite her, her stomach is growling now. If she just bit down a little harder, she thinks, she could snap the end of her finger clean through.

     But she doesn't, because she won't give in that easily. She won't allow Vriska to be the one to make her relent. Her grip loosens on Vriska's finger, and Vriska steps back, growling under her breath like she's never lost an entire limb before, never been beaten to death. The taste of blueberry blood is overwhelming, and Rose simply turns her head to the side, spitting it out against the fabric of the sofa.

*

     When Rose first suggested that the others temporally move in with her, it had been done so purely because she has the biggest house out of the lot of them. It quickly became abundantly clear that this wasn't a good thing. A big house meant that there was more chance of them finding themselves alone, more windows and doors for the zombies to break through. They learn soon enough that they needed a solid defence, a base that they could look out for one another in, and so ever since the time Nepeta was wandering through a hallway on her own and something leapt in through the window after her, they've all remained in the living room.

     The sofas make for reasonable beds, provided they're all willing to share, and if they go off in teams, then reaching the kitchen or bathroom is neither too risky or too far. Karkat's called a meeting, which is a ridiculous enough notion in itself, because they were all spread out in front of him before he decided to go about making any sort of official plans, but there he is, stood in front of the television. John's by his side, while the others have bundled themselves onto the sofa, half sitting on each other's laps.

     Everyone with the exception of Rose and Vriska, who sit on the floor, backs against the wall. Rose raises her eyebrows as Karkat rambles on about what to do with the zombies, both those inside of the house and out of it, and she hears Vriska growl from the back of her throat, but neither of them can say anything about the situation. Eridan went to great lengths to express how very much he didn't want to be bitten by either of them, and then _someone_ came up with the smart idea of putting duct tape over their mouths. Not that they didn't trust them, of course, but because they've seen how beyond their control this all is, and they think this is for the good of everyone, really.

     With a scowl, Rose brushes her hair out of her eyes, and barely resists the temptation to just tear the duct tape off. She's tried that three times already and it's always ended in a shrieking match between her and whoever felt like burning out their lungs at the time. Realising that she's long since tuned out from listening to Karkat's great plan, which mostly involves barricading even more of the windows and keeping a tighter hold on their guns, Rose decides to stop pretending to pay attention and opens up her laptop. She nudges Vriska in the side, signalling for her to do the same.

> tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering arachnidsGrip [AG]
> 
> TT: Does this strike you as being slightly fetishistic?  
> AG: Ugh, don't even get me started on this 8ullshit!  
> AG: If you hadn't fucking 8it me, then I wouldn't even 8e in this mess.  
> TT: Yes, yes, I'm certain that it's entirely my fault, despite the way that you actively placed your finger against my offensively blunt human teeth.  
> TT: Well. Let it be known that I always did dislike you.  
> AG: Dislike???????? Wh8t the fuck, way to kick me when I'm down, Lalonde.  
> TT: Oh, fine.  
> TT: I've always despised you, Vriska. Our hatred was written in the stars, and the small print read "And one day you'll feel compelled to make this girl's flesh fall from her bones." It's just a shame that we were too wrapped up in a flurry of loathing to notice the asterisk being there in the first place.  
> AG: What the fuck?  
> AG: Jegus, whatever. Thanks.  
> AG: H8 you too, Lalonde.  
> TT: How are you feeling, anyway? Better now that the, shall we say, transformation is complete?  
> AG: It's weird. I expected to feel completely mindless or something 8uuuuuuuut........  
> AG: I think I just feel the same!  
> TT: You're not hungrier?  
> AG: I could eat 8ut I don't see what that proves! I mean I got hungry 8efore all of this, so what's the 8ig deal?  
> AG: 8ut saying that I would pro8a8ly take a 8ite out of Karkat if it got him to shut up already!!!!!!!!  
> TT: Touché.  
> AG: Don't try to 8e so calm and collected all the time. I'm sitting riiiiiiiight next to you, I can see you trying not to laugh even with that dum8 duct tape over your stupid mouth.  
> TT: I'm sorry. What I meant to say was "lol."  
> AG: 8etter. :::;)  
> TT: Indeed.  
> AG: Hey.  
> AG: What happens when we do get hungry? I'm quite sure there's not much point in us pretending that it isn't going to happen! 8ecause you tried to take a chunk out of me without even realising it and that was a few days ago now. So it's going to get worse, and then may8e we'll want to........  
> AG: I don't know.  
> AG: Find some way to stop it.  
> TT: You're not being very subtle.  
> AG: What????????  
> TT: I'm sitting right next to you. I can see you staring at the guns.  
> AG: Haha wh8t, qu8t jumping to c8nclusions!  
> TT: Yes, that's what I'm doing.  
> TT: You asked what we'll do once we get hungry. Or, rather, when we get too hungry.  
> TT: Perhaps we could try protecting the others from the oncoming hordes. We could go out in a blaze of glory.  
> AG: A 8laze of Glory?  
> TT: A Blaze of Glory  
> AG: This duct tape is seriously the most retarded idea this group has ever had.  
> AG: If I get reeeeeeeeally hungry and decide that John suddenly looks delicious, I can just tear it off and have a snacky snacky snack.  
> TT: I know.  
> TT: But it's just to stop involuntary reactions, and it makes them feel better.  
> AG: Makes THEM feel 8etter? What a8out us???????? I don't know if you noticed 8ut WE'RE the zom8ies!  
> TT: Again, I know. But listen to how Karkat's speaking. He's talking like this is some fluke; like you and I becoming zombies is as bad as this end of the world is going to get. They're the ones who care about us, Vriska. We should at least humour them.  
> AG: God.  
> AG: Fuck you.  
> AG: I h8 it when you're right.  
> TT: Mm-hm.  
> AG: L8r, Lalonde.
> 
> arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]

     Rose signs off, because there's no one else for her to speak to, and though she tries to focus on Karkat, her eyes continue to flicker over to the pile of guns on her coffee table. It's good, she supposes, to know that she has a way out of this, when things truly go to shit.

*

     The news stations no longer broadcast. The radios churn out static. Patches of Rose's skin turn green, before they rot and fade to grey.

     Kanaya holds her close, and Rose clings to the back of her shirt so tightly that she fears she'll tear right through it and splice her own palms open with her nails. All she can _smell_ is Kanaya, her skin and her hair, layers to her that she would never have been able to even imagine before. It floods every last one of her senses, but Rose keeps her lips sealed tightly, even through whimpers, because she knows that out of everyone, she can't afford to bite Kanaya. Kanaya's already dead, and has been for long years, and Rose has no idea how a zombie's infection would grip her.

     Rose shudders and shakes, and Terezi doesn't have as much luck holding Vriska down. The hunger might be more than Rose's mind feels fit to handle, but there's something else to all of this, something that scares her more than the thought of ripping one of her friends throat out with her teeth, and just how very much she wants to do that; she's terrified that she's going to begin forgetting things. Parts of her brain are going to turn bad, she knows it, and then she won't remember a damn thing. She won't remember how they won their session, won't recall all that this new world had to offer her, and she won't remember the time she finally let herself thaw a little and managed to kiss Kanaya. It's all going to break away from her, bit by bit, and she'd rather be dead without any thoughts in her head than living and breathing with a few missing, creating gaping holes in her memory.

     She tries to tell Kanaya all of this, and Kanaya presses a finger to her lips, braver than most. Vriska tried to tear a chunk out of Aradia's cheek this morning, and came within mere inches of doing so, before Sollux and Equius both managed to hold her back. Eridan still says that they should be taken out behind the house and shot, and Rose doesn't think that she entirely disagrees with him. But she stays where she is, because Kanaya is close, and Kanaya knows what it is that makes her chest ache. She bows her head, murmuring into Rose's hair, and tells her all kinds of stories that involve the two of them, as if Rose wasn't there, as if she's already forgotten that Kanaya's words are real.

     As low as Kanaya tries to keep her voice, it's no good. Nobody else in the room speaks, too caught up in their own thoughts to even consider voicing anything in the open. It's better like that, though. Better that they're silent, creating a semblance of peace, so that they can hear anything that approaches them.

     And something does, all too quickly. Their barricades are strong, considering that they only had furniture to use to protect themselves, but they aren't by any means impenetrable. There is something to be said about the intelligence of these zombies, and they certainly know how to work together: more and more strike against Rose's house every time, though they have a forest to cross to reach it. Rose wonders what it is that the zombies so adamantly want from them, and then wonders if they even know anymore.

     She also wonders, later, if the zombies so fervently seek them out because their household contains the last of the undecayed flesh on the continent, but for now, she's far more focused on gripping her gun tightly and punching holes through anything that approaches Kanaya. She's unspeakably glad that she had Jade to teach her how to aim.

     Three make their way in through the shattered window, and unluckily for their intruders, they drag themselves straight up to Gamzee. Gamzee, who still holds onto some of that Bard's strength, and using a baseball bat he brought along with him, makes fast work of their softened, smashable skulls. There they go, exploding like pumpkins, but not before Rose can take in the sight of muscle showing through peeling skin, bone showing through rotting muscle. Vriska catches her staring, and gives her shoulder a rough shove as she shoots her a warning glare. If Rose doesn't think about how long it's going to take her to look like that, she supposes, then Vriska won't have to feel like she ought to, either.

     Jade and Tavros put bullets in the bodies, just in case, and it's a good thing that nobody dares celebrate their victory, because not four minutes later another wave hits them. It's uncountably bigger than the last, for everything moves so quickly around them that Rose can't take in each and every detail of the fray. All she knows is that Gamzee can't hold that many off, no matter how strong he is, and the moment she sees a zombie sink its teeth into him and another take a chunk out of Tavros, Tavros who's desperate to pull Gamzee back and save him, Rose takes a step back, pressing herself closer to Kanaya. She'll be damned if she lets anything go through her. The zombies make their way deeper into the room, and then there are gunshots all around, and Rose swears to god that they're going to end up shooting one another.

     She runs out of ammunition before the raid is over, but that doesn't matter, because reloading was taking too long anyway. Rose holds the barrel of the rifle, brings it up high over her shoulder and swings it down, trying to mimic the way Gamzee tore through skulls. It works, to an extent. The butt of the gun ends up embedded halfway through a zombie's skull, and the creature looks right at her, blinking in awareness, as if it knows it should be distressed. There's still something in there, and as she pushes the sole of one boot against the zombie's chest in order to get enough leverage to tear the gun from its head, Rose doesn't know whether the realisation makes things better or worse.

     Rose is still panting, shoulders hunched, body aching, ready to take another swing before Kanaya places a hand on her back, making her start. Turning on her heels, Rose lifts the gun once again, barely managing to stop herself from striking when she sees Kanaya. Her eyes go wide, and she remembers that, right, she's supposed to be protecting Kanaya. There's some blood on her, human, or at least what used to be human, but after a quick inspection, she finds that there are no bite marks on her. Rose breathes a sigh of relief, and something quite literally dislodges in her chest. She tries not to think too much about it.

     When she gets her breath back and the haze in her mind clears somewhat, Rose recalls the rest of the room, and turns around to see how everyone else has fared. Not well, it seems: Equius and Nepeta are both trying to press their hands to the wounds on each other's shoulders, and Karkat just stands there, seething, making no effort to cover up lacerations on his cheek or hands. John tries, though, reaches out to him as if there's _something_ he can do now, and Karkat only scowls, batting him away. At least he's not clinging to false delusions of hope. Sollux, with his calf oozing mustard blood where something crawled up behind him, brings the grand total up to eight zombies, or two zombies and six soon-to-be zombies.

     The others never really stood a chance.

     They take the corpses of the invading zombies and toss them outside, as far from the house as they dare to wander. From what they've decided as a group, and from what Rose reluctantly confirms, zombies most likely aren't _that_ fussy when it comes to their next meal. The corpses scattered around will slow down the next wave of zombies, though nobody is quite sure what they're trying to buy time for. Aradia and Dave head to the kitchen, where they've been letting the frozen meat defrost, and bring it back for Rose and Vriska. None of them say it out loud, but they all know that they're the two who need it the most. No notion of actually cooking the meat is entertained.

     Rose sits, huddled, as she bites into the raw steak, eyes screwed shut. It's as if blinding herself to the room around her, to her circle of friends who _must_ be watching her with differing degrees of disgust and envy, will stop her from seeing into the depths of her own mind. She'll be able to pretend that what she's biting into is human flesh without having to linger over it. Her stomach clenches, groans, because although the meat helps, it isn't what she needs. Again, she feels that her eyes need to roll back into her skull, but she fights against the sensation, fearing that it'll cause them to loosen in their sockets.

     It doesn't surprise Rose that Vriska fails to practise restraint quite as well. Terezi does a good job of holding her back for a few minutes, of trying to subdue her with a rack of ribs that hasn't quite defrosted all the way, but it was always inevitable that she was going to get her hands bitten, sooner or later. When Rose tries to refrain from shuddering, not wanting to lose pieces of herself already, John comes over and wraps his arms around her, attempting to keep her still. Rose parts her lips to whisper her thanks, and then sinks her teeth deep into his shoulder. Dave rushes over, tries to pull her off him, and in that moment, tearing the back of his wrist off seems like a fantastic idea.

     Rose is thrown back, hits the wall and squelches more than she ought to, and all the anger and fear and shouting in the room becomes as nothing, because all she's aware of in that moment is the sliver of flesh caught between her front teeth. She should spit it out, just as she did with Vriska's blood, but her mouth is watering too much to even consider ridding herself of it. Amongst the accusations and Eridan's increasingly frantic demands that they put bullets in the heads of all zombies, because there are still six of them who can be saved, Kanaya wraps her arms around Rose as if she has absolutely nothing to fear. She shouldn't touch her like this, Rose thinks. She shouldn't put herself at risk, because all of a sudden, Rose is aware of how smell is suddenly the only sense that means a damn thing to her, and her nose is buried right into the crook of Kanaya's neck.

     But she doesn't lash out at her. Somehow, Rose remains as she is, eyes closed to hold them in, and swallows back the scrap of flesh caught between her teeth.

     When the shouting dies down, Karkat stands upon the coffee table he's just righted, and asks them all in a loud, clear voice what they think should be done; if they think there's anything that can save them, at this point. Rose is surprised that he manages to take charge at a time like this, but then supposes that he doesn't want to have to face John, just yet. Some part of Rose is attempting to convince her that she should feel guilty, that this is all her fault for leaving a window open in the first place, but even she can't believe that. This was bound to happen, one way or another.

     Eventually, after a great deal of mumbling and careless groaning, they come to the decision that they'll stay exactly where they are, huddled together, doors bolted, windows boarded up. It's unspoken, but they all seem to agree that it'll be better to go together, and to go quickly.

*

     Rose lies with her head on the arm of the sofa, watching as Equius holds Nepeta. He cradles her in his arms, not wanting to cause her any more pain than she's already in, as if such a thing is possible. The memory of pain tends to fade as soon as the sensation leaves the body, but Rose remembers her own transformation well enough; like drifting away from her own mind, and then dying in reverse. Nepeta twists and whimpers in his arms, and Equius can't do anything more than stare down at her, his own body not racked with the same sort of torment.

     “Why—?” he asks, and he has asked it a dozen times already, “Why does it affect her and not me?”

     He would take her place in a heartbeat, and the notion would strike Rose as romantic if they weren't all going to end up dead, anyway. Equius' voice cuts through them all, even as they all ride out the infection themselves, all of them but Kanaya. Rose doesn't remember who bit who at this point, but she's sure the blame can be evenly divide amongst the whole group. Karkat, having more or less settled into his new form, finally gets tired of Equius repeating the same thing over and over, and snaps at him.

     “Because you have way more muscle on your frame than her, fuckass,” he sneers, and then grabs the back of John's shirt, pulling him back to the floor in an effort to stop him attempting to _help_ again. “Just be grateful that she's getting it over and done with quickly.”

     When Equius finally begins to ache and the others come to the end of their transformations, part of Rose's calf falls off. That's all there is to it. There's a sickly, sliding sensation, vaguely akin to the feeling of some darkness in the Furthest Ring creeping across her skin, and when she dares to look down, a great chunk of rotten flesh has broken away from her body. Her eyes sting as she stares down at it, and she's not entirely sure of whether it actually _hurt_ or not. All she knows is that it's severed from her now, and if any of them ever believed that there was a chance of going back, they all disregard that notion. Scowling, Rose reaches down, using to fingers to toss the offending muscle into the centre of the room. Kanaya buries her face against the back of Rose's shoulder, and she feels her shirt dampen with tears, though all sensations seem a lot duller to her now.

     It comes to pass that they end up sitting in a circle around the edges of the room, rotten flesh in the centre. It isn't only Rose who looses pieces of herself, and they all toss the decaying muscle and sinew and skin into a pile, and say nothing, as if none of them intend to do anything with it. When the flesh draped across her rips snaps and tears, Rose sits upright, and with a glance to Vriska, is about to suggest that they pick up the guns and open wide.

     Before she can get the words out, though, John has jumped to his feet, wobbling slightly. A great deal of his right arm is missing, and it's as if it sets him off-balance. Personally, Rose just thinks that he's _excited_ about all of this, because there's a glint in his eyes that she hasn't seen from anyone in months. He takes the stage as their leader, and for once, Karkat doesn't object. He just sits on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, toying with the crumbled remains of one horn between his first two fingers and thumb.

     “Look!” John announces gleefully, pointing at the discarded pile of flesh, as if they haven't already seen it. He's giddy, like this is some brand new discovery; like it isn't all they've been able to smell for more hours than Rose remembers how to count. “This is great! Come on, guys, we're being provided with a free meal here. Okay, so maybe it's a bit gross, haha, but we just have to get used to it. It's how we are now! And it's not like we're hurting anyone, because it's _right there_ for us to take. Seriously, guys. We're all friends, and this is what friends are supposed to do. They help each other out! And I don't think we've ever needed as much help as we need right now.”

     As John speaks, his expression twists into something pained, though the timbre of his voice doesn't change. He grips at his own stomach, laughing through his hunger, and oh god, he's only saying what they're all thinking. They all want to reach out and feast on what's been offered up to them, but none of them want to be the first to do so. Rose looks away from the flesh, vision resting on the ceiling, and no matter how she tries to convince herself that this is all wrong, she can't believe it. She wants to do as John suggests, because it makes _sense_. The flesh isn't going to last forever, and they might as well make good use of it while they have the chance.

     With a grumbled _fuck this_ , Sollux crawls forward, one hand reaching out to the pile. It's strange that all of them have the same reaction; rather than feel repulsion at what he's doing, they panic, fearing that he's going to take more than his fair share. Rose wastes no more time, takes a handful for herself, and as soon as her teeth sink into the festering flesh, her mind becomes a wonderful blank, pieces rearranging themselves. This should disgust her. She's biting down into some part of one of her friends' rotting bodies, and it should disgust her, but it doesn't. Nothing like bile rises in her throat, and nothing makes it difficult to swallow. None of them look at each other as they eat, and not out of shame, but simply because all of them want more than they've been allotted.

     At some point, Rose begins to wonder if each of them have their own unique taste. If she were in any other frame of mind, how much she wants to find out would scare her. But she finds, as the flesh settles in the pit of her stomach, that her mind clears somewhat, and that she begins to feel a lot more like herself again. This must be why the outside zombies were so desperate to get to them, because if just a mouthful of rotting muscle is enough to break through the fog in her mind, then something that isn't all putrid decay might make her feel as if she's what she once was again.

*

     The next time zombies make a move against the house, none of them have to be as cautious as they were before. There's no longer anything to worry about when it comes to being bitten, and so they fight against the intruders without much regard for their own mortality. There is plenty of food, after that. Zombie-flesh, yes, but it's enough to keep them sated, enough for Rose to feel the remaining muscles in her body strengthen, though not repair entirely. Of course, even this stash of food eventually finds itself depleted, but for a while, the smiles return to their faces, and they begin to believe that they could last forever, like this.

     Tavros puts forward the suggestion that they start moving out, in order to actively hunt, but Aradia points out that their main strength lies in the fact that they're stationary, and therefore not wasting energy unnecessarily. Feferi says that it would only put them in more danger, and that's likely how other packs of zombies have ended up as lunch. There's the unspoken thought of _but what if there are still humans out there_ , but they stick to their unreliable lifestyle of waiting for lunch to come up and knock on their front door, rather than risk their tender necks over a what-if.

     Food becomes scarce, and everyone has their own ways of coping with it. Rose tries to eat from her kitchen, tries to enjoy pastas and rices and vegetables and great slabs of chocolate, but nothing settles in her stomach. Terezi and Vriska wrap themselves up in each other, all pointed elbows and knees jutting out, and take bites from one another, strips of flesh and teal-blue blood gleaming between jagged rows of white fangs. It's sweet in its own way, though Rose doesn't think that either of them ever had much meat on their bodies to begin with.

     As their hunger builds, Kanaya tries to look after all of them. She wanders around the perimeter of the house, salvaging the scraps that have thus far been overlooked, and divides it out as evenly as she can. Rose always stays close to Kanaya, rests with her head against her chest, certain that the zombies from the world outside of her house only strike against them to get at her. She will protect Kanaya in a way that she can no longer protect her own mind, and as Kanaya holds her, Rose wonders what it was she was trying to make of her life. She no longer remembers anything like aspirations, anything beyond these four walls, because all that floods her every waking thought now is the desire to track down her next meal, to feed. Perhaps Kanaya feels like this from time to time, when her rainbow drinker instincts get the better of her. It's then that Rose realises it must've been days, at least, since Kanaya drank, and offers up her wrist to her, though she knows her blood has long since gone sour.

     For the most part, they manage to control themselves. Terezi and Vriska are the worst offenders. Terezi lost her glasses days ago, and now her scorched red eyes are wider than ever, make it seem as if she's actively looking around the room, rather than just sniffing out any stray tendons. Her coherency comes and goes in waves, but luckily, if anything about the situation can be described as _lucky_ , Vriska usually has enough sense to be able to pin her down when it gets particularly bad; and when Vriska has not fed recently enough to remember her own mind, then Terezi usually has enough of her old self in reserve to bind Vriska's wrists behind her back using her hands.

     Others will lash out, from time to time. Rose will look around the room and see that Jade has idly raised her rifle, but ultimately decided that she doesn't need to do anything about it. Usually all it takes is a swift kick or a knock to the head to get them to calm down, and more often than not, more muscle falls to the ground in the process. When Eridan gets to his feet, startlingly calm, considering how he's acted thus far, nobody pays him any heed. He sways as he makes his way across the room, if only because a good part of his left knee is missing, and stands, towering over Rose. Rose looks up, expression dry, and for a moment, he almost looks apologetic. But there's something more masking that, something that lets Rose know that he feels nothing short of justified. And then, just as he's about to make a move, just as he bares his teeth, he takes a step back, and returns to his business.

     The second time he approaches, he doesn't even look Rose's way. Rose is just waking up from what she would've once described as a nap but now thinks of as a spate of unconsciousness, vision bleary at the edges. She blinks, causing something in her eyelids to crunch, and the blurred smudges of her vision, like fingerprints pressed to her retina, don't fade. Eridan stands beside her, and she only knows it's him from the shape of his gills; and in the next moment, he's bowed his head and bitten Kanaya's shoulder.

     Kanaya doesn't shriek. She jerks, flails her arm out, hitting Eridan in the jaw, and lunges back. That catches everyone's attention well enough, and in the space reserved for stunned silence, Rose very calmly picks up her gun and deposits three bullets into Eridan's skull.

     Roses tosses the gun to the side like a candy bar wrapper, takes one of Kanaya's hands in her own, and leads her over to the sofa. Nepeta promptly jumps to her feet, scrambling out of the way. It's funny. To Rose, this is the absolute worst thing that could've happened. Not her own infection, and not even having to feed on the raw flesh of her friends; but knowing that Kanaya's was hers to protect and having failed miserably in that regard. It's the worst thing that could've happened, and yet she's so utterly calm and collected about everything. There isn't a drop of panic in her body, not even as she runs her fingers across the wound on Kanaya's shoulder. Their bodies may have deteriorated and their limbs weakened, but something's sure as hell made their jaws stronger. Her shoulder is already swollen, and the laceration's pumping out thick, jade-green blood as if Kanaya has plenty to spare.

     “Rose—” Kanaya begins, soon cut off by a gurgle.

     “Hush, Kanaya,” Rose murmurs, and puts pressure on the wound, tilting her head to the side when it doesn't work. Kanaya's eyes only widen, and the sweat rolls off her in beads. It seems like Eridan either hit something of importance, or zombie infections just don't mix with rainbow drinkers. Rose promptly stops tending to the wound, and makes herself comfortable on the sofa, knees tucked up as she places her bloody grey-green hands against Kanaya's cheeks.

     “Rose, I think that—” Kanaya tries again, eyes darting around frantically. She wants to move, Rose thinks, but can't. “I should tell you that, I...”

     “Shh, shh,” Rose whispers, and then leans forward to kiss Kanaya's lips. She holds the contact until Kanaya's body allows her to relax, if only for half a second, and when Rose pulls back to smile at her, the right corner of her mouth splits open by an inch. “It's okay.”

     It isn't okay. Nothing about this could ever even remotely be described as okay, but Rose decides that it doesn't matter. Because things were okay, before this, when it was her and Kanaya waking up together every morning, legs entwined, hands clasped together, hair all askew but neither one of them caring about that much. It was more than okay, and Rose wants Kanaya to hold onto that memory, the memory of the time before, when Rose didn't have to protect her; she only had to make her happy. And she did just that, or so she likes to think.

     Kanaya returns the smile, and it's far less grotesque on her pretty black lips. Shoulders falling slack, she leans forward, and Rose wraps her arms around her, holding her tight, keeping her close. She stays like that for hours and hours, but she doesn't cry, because she can't get the image of tears freeing her eyes from their confines out of her head. Long into the next morning and she's still holding Kanaya close, and nobody dares to approach. They certainly don't suggest what Rose knows they're all thinking: Kanaya's flesh isn't rotten. It could be so, so good for them.

     But Rose isn't about to let go of Kanaya. She's going to protect her, no matter what happens. She's going to keep her whole, no matter how her body screams at her to sink her teeth into the dim white skin that will surely yield for her. Kanaya is Rose's, Kanaya always said that much herself, and Rose isn't going to let anyone forget that.

     The sun reaches its highest point in the sky and they make fast work of Eridan's corpse instead.

*

     “It's all chill, Tavbro,” Gamzee mumbles through a hazy grin, patting one heavy hand against the top of Tavros' head. His wrist bone gleams through, and Gamzee seems surprisingly relaxed for a troll whose horn has cracked in two, right down the centre. If Rose doesn't focus properly, then it looks as if he has three horns, and her vision hasn't been what it should in a few days.

     “I, uhh,” Tavros begins, trying to duck his head. There's bright purple blood smeared against the corner of his mouth, creating a stark contrast to the mud-coloured muscle that shows through the patch in his cheek. His brow furrows, the pain on his face unmistakable, and out of all the trolls, Rose thinks he might've had it the worst. His bull-horns became heavier before they crumbled to dust, and only half of one remains. Tavros does his best to keep it intact, though it clearly only causes him agony. “Think if would be best, if you'd...”

     “He wants you to stop, Gamzee,” Jade eventually calls from across the room when Tavros' sentence doesn't get the chance to go anywhere, because Gamzee just keeps on patting and patting. It's tender, or it would be, if there wasn't so much strength in Gamzee's every touch; if only he'd realise that Tavros was trying to get away from him. He hasn't eaten in a few days. He says that he's just fine how he is, and that he doesn't need any of that motherfucking putrid shit, and that he's just fine with his pies. Except for the part where he hasn't had anything resembling slime for the better part of a week.

     “I told you, sis, it's all good,” Gamzee says, still patting away. Cringing, Tavros reaches up, wraps his fingers around Gamzee's thinning wrists, trying to hold him in place. “It's all miracles up in this joint, it's all...”

     It's all _something_ , but Gamzee's voice bubbles away into incoherency, quickly replaced by a low, rumbling groan that might've been intended as laughter. Rose straightens, pulls Kanaya's corpse closer, and checks the ammunition in the handgun that finished Eridan off. Another three shots, maybe. She's not entirely sure. The gun trembles in her hand, and she can't wrap her fingers around it tightly enough.

     Like Rose, it seems as if the others aren't in a particular hurry to use up the last of their ammo, either. Or that's what they'll later say if anyone questions why they didn't help Tavros when Gamzee snapped his hands back and dug his fingers and thumbs into Tavros' waist, where flesh just about met metal, why the squelch of Tavros splitting in two didn't drive them to their feet; it's nothing to do with a silent agreement that they really do need more to eat. Tavros stutters out his final words, and nobody really takes them in. It's just so hard to pay heed to when the room suddenly reeks worse than it ever has before, making their stomachs whine out in hunger.

     But there's a spark of something left in the few who have eaten the most recently, and with a reluctant sigh, Dave drags himself to his feet. John follows suit, still a leader through and through, no matter how mindless he becomes, and picks up a lamp like it's going to do anything to hold Gamzee at bay. Gamzee's torn his way through fleets of zombies before, so they must know what they're getting themselves into. Frantically, Rose rearranges herself so that Kanaya is behind her, because even now, protecting her is all she can think to do. She's so busy making sure that she's formed a barricade between Kanaya and Gamzee that he's already towering over her, brown blood dripping from between grit teeth, and there's no time to turn her gun on him.

     Rose is disappointedly underwhelmed by the prospect of dying, and can't find it in herself to feel what she ought to when Dave limps across the room and places himself between her and Gamzee. He glances over his shoulder, and Rose sees one eye through the cracked lens of his sunglasses, though she can't discern anything from it. The look is lost mere moments later, and Dave takes aim, putting a bullet in Gamzee's forehead before Gamzee puts his fist through Dave's gut. All Rose can think is _Well, that was a waste_ , and her hands shake more than ever before. But it's enough, she realises, because when she blinks the sting in the backs of her eyes away and takes in the room around her once again, Gamzee has his fingers wrapped around Sollux's throat.

     With her wings almost touching the ceiling, Aradia launches herself at Gamzee, though the impact only succeeds in splintering his other horn. He glances up at her, eyes glazed as if he doesn't see her at all, and his grasp tightens as Sollux's protests die down into nothing more than a snap and a thud as his body hits the floor. Later, Jade says that if only she'd reloaded her gun faster, then Gamzee wouldn't have got to Aradia as well. She also says this through a mouthful of mustard-tinted muscle, so it's difficult for Rose to gage how sincere her remorse is.

*

     The humans would see their dead buried, and the trolls find this strange.

     All of those left over find eating their dead beyond strange, but none of them are able to help themselves. In the beginning, a few misplaced muscles and hunks of flesh were enough to sate them, but now they're stripping corpses down to the bone, sucking the marrow out and still not having enough to fill them. Another wave of zombies claw their way up to the house, and Rose no longer keeps track of who goes out when. She vaguely recalls Equius trying to clamp his hand over Nepeta's throat as it spilled her life out, only making things worse as he crushed bone in his grasp. Nepeta was in a heap on the floor after that, and with a single ring that could've well been a gunshot, Equius soon joined her.

     There are four of them left. It's taken Rose all day to count. They are all hunched up, beyond the point of starvation, though all they do is eat and eat, only ever needing more. The zombies that fell during the last fight are mixed in with their friends, loose limbs scattered across the floor and not quite matching up with any of the corpses. A while ago, it might've reassured them to know that they were eating strangers, but Rose can no longer remember why something like that would've mattered. Food is food, end of, and right now, food is everything. It's all they have, all they need; all they can hope for.

     Still, Kanaya's corpse remains untouched, save for the single bite that Eridan pressed to her. Rose makes sure to change the bandage on it every day, and makes more of a mess for trying to prevent one.

     Next to her, Vriska is crying. She's got the soles of her red boots pressed flat against the floor, chest tucked up against her knees as she leans forward, curling into herself. One arm wraps around her shins, and the other reaches out, so that she can jab roughly at Terezi's side. Terezi doesn't react, doesn't move other than by means that aren't of her own making, like when Vriska shoves her particularly roughly. When Rose gets to her feet, an arduous process that makes the floor threaten to slide out from beneath her, she sees deep ruts running from Terezi's throat, down to her chest, like somebody has tried to pull pieces out of her.

     “Did the zombies get her?” Rose asks, still calling the outsiders _zombies_ , like there's anything that defines them as separate beings now, physically or otherwise.

     Vriska sniffs pathetically loudly, and uses the back of her wrist to rub at her eyes. A flake from the bridge of her nose is torn off in the process, and when Vriska tilts her head back to look up at Rose, there are bright teal stains smeared all across her mouth. It almost makes Rose smile; it reminds her of the first time that she tried on lipstick, borrowed from her mother, and ended up missing her mouth entirely. She falters then, for the briefest of moments. She hasn't thought about her mother in a long time, and recalling her now feels like something from another life entirely.

     Rose sits down next to Vriska. Taking hold of her wrist, careful not because she doesn't want to be forceful, but because she doesn't want to snap it in two, Rose pulls it away from Terezi's body. Across the room, John and Karkat sit slouched against one another, unable to do anything but sleep with how much they've consumed. Rose wonders if they dream, if any of them can dream, because their legs keep on twitching, and every so often one of them will grumble out something Rose is certain she's supposed to understand.

     Rose becomes increasingly frustrated when Vriska just won't stop crying, and her nerves are set even more on edge when the heaved sobs are interrupted with ripples of laughter.

     “What's wrong?” she asks dryly. A ridiculous question with an obvious answer, but she can't muster up the resolve to ask anything else.

     “Shut up,” Vriska mumbles miserably, as if Rose has already accused her of something. “My wings just hurt so much, okay?”

     She's wearing a red hoodie that Rose thinks used to belong to Terezi, hood pulled up over her head. There are holes punched into it to accommodate her horns, and Rose wonders if pulling it up was what caused the hook and crescent of her horns to break clean off. Similarly, there are slits driven into the back for her wings to poke through, and they twitch and shake, edges all bent and creased, the blue drained right out of them. Rose is certain that she could reach out, pinch one between her fingers and make it turn to ash, just like a moth's. They can't be good for flying now. Can't be good for anything but to send flashes of pain through Vriska as they continue to wilt as her body rots.

     This isn't why Vriska's crying. Aradia wasn't given the chance to have her wings degrade like this, but she wouldn't have cried at it happening, and this isn't the sort of thing that should bring Vriska to tears. Briefly, Rose considers telling her not to cry, lest one of her eyes rolls its way out of the socket and down onto the floor, but she bites her tongue. Vriska's lost eyes before, and she can stand to go through it again.

     For the second time in a handful of minutes, Rose gets back to her feet. When the room decides that it's span enough for the time being, she reaches down, hooks one of her elbows around Vriska's, and pulls her to her feet. Vriska steadies herself surprisingly quickly, but Rose knows that eating so much will do that to your sense of balance. Vriska's probably a little better off than she is right now.

     With what's supposed to be a smile but probably comes across more as her face contorting, Rose brings her hands up to the hollow of Vriska's throat, takes hold of the hoodie's zip, and pulls it straight down. Her hands smooth across Vriska's bony shoulders, and as she pushes the hoodie off, Vriska juts out her shoulder blades, making it easier for the clothing to slide off over her wings. She pulls the hood back too, at some point, and the rainbow-stained garment drops to the floor. When Rose reaches for the hem of Vriska's t-shirt, Vriska sneers, but doesn't stop her.

     “What the hell are you doing?” she asks, but there's no venom in it. She can't even bring herself to swear properly.

     “Helping you out,” Rose says with a sigh, tugging Vriska's shirt up. She's greeted by the sight of soft blue flesh stretched over protruding rib bones. “Now stop being so stubborn.”

     Vriska reluctantly lifts her hands above her head, and the scales around the edges of her wings break off, fluttering down to the floor like weightless shards of broken glass. With the shirt gone, Vriska wraps her arms around herself like she's suddenly cold, and Rose places her hands against her collarbone, leading her over to the wall. She turns Vriska, makes her stand with her hands pressed flat against it, and Vriska chokes out an _oh god_ when she realises what Rose is about to do. But she doesn't resist, just scrapes her brittle nails against the wallpaper.

     It's not too difficult to work out how the wings are affixed to Vriska's back. There are hardened ridges running up either side of her spine, allowing the wings to have purchase enough to flap, stems embedded deeply under her skin. Rose works from top to bottom, shedding Vriska's wings like a thin, glassy film of skin. If Vriska could still spread them out, she'd probably shatter them herself with a single flap, but Rose knows that won't help her in the long run. Best to get rid of the problem at its source. Pressing her nails into soft flesh, Rose rakes back just enough to dig her fingers under Vriska's skin, fingertips bumping against the roots of her wings. She tugs them and Vriska _shudders_ , whole body going slack as Rose whips out long, red threads of _something_ that had previously been coiled inside of her.

     Vriska groans through grit teeth, body trembling where Rose tears out more than she rightly needs to, but she just can't help it. Vriska's falling apart, and it's not her fault that she only speeds the whole process up. She seizes what she's torn out, clots of it falling to the floor, catching between her toes, and guzzles down as much as she can, as quickly as she can. In front of her, Vriska slumps against the wall and then crumples in a heap on the floor, back spliced open, twin wounds showing that her wings are no more.

     Looking at her curled into herself like that, Rose is almost compelled to comfort her. Her chewing grinds to an almost complete halt, and something slips out through the hole punched in her cheek. But the more she looks at Vriska, the harder it is to recall why she was trying to help her in the first place, and if that was even what she was attempting to do. Terezi comes into it somehow, she knows that much, and lets her gaze flutter over her to piece the entire puzzle together. Looking at Terezi's corpse only serves to remind her that there's still food to go around, and Rose drags her feet across the floor, before Karkat and John can clue into what she's doing.

     Even these reserves won't last forever, though, and if somebody else doesn't die soon, Rose is going to have to take matters into her own rotting hands.

*

     There is an ache in each one of Rose's remaining muscles so deep and raw that she could tell each and every of them apart, and know them all by name. Her body is no longer a whole, and the parts no longer work in union; if she moves too much, then something will slide away, and it'll take her far too long to notice. An hour or two or twelve ago, Rose blinked too hard, causing an eye to dislodge from its socket. It hit the carpeted floor soundlessly, and pathetically rolled a few feet, towards a body laid out there. Rose simply tilted her head to the side, finding that curiously, her vision was no worse off for having lost it.

     It's been blackening for days. She sits slumped against the wall, legs stretched out, almost touching the whitewashed corpse before her. It used to be brighter, she thinks, but can't recall if the glow she imagines is nothing more than a spark of a memory that's long since burnt out. Rose stretches out her feet and something shifts in her socks, but she doesn't feel as if she's missing any toes. There's someone next to her, there's been someone next to her for a long time, and she slumps against their side as she realises that she can hear floorboards creaking above her.

     She rubs the heel of her palm against her good eye, and doesn't think about how stupid the motion is until her vision clears. There are four people in the room with her. Four mostly intact, somewhat animated people at any rate, and Rose is almost surprised when the sound of sodden fingertips scraping at the barricades that still surround them fills the room. It isn't anything to fear; just an inevitability. From their place on the sofa, John and Karkat stir, and by the time Rose's vision flickers over to follow them, she sees them picking up guns from the pile in the centre of the room, checking them for ammo, and tossing whatever's empty over their shoulders.

     They strap all the good ones around them, shove them in their pockets, and Rose smiles to herself. They look like real action heroes, like something out of one of John's movies. Karkat makes his way over to the door first without much more than a grunt, and Rose expects that a grunt is all he can give, considering the way that he quite literally has to drag the ankle that's hanging on by threads across the room. John, glancing Karkat's way and nodding shallowly, takes a few cautious steps over to Rose, like he thinks she has enough energy to leap to her feet and tear out his throat.

     She's utterly exhausted, and it'd only be a waste. There's not much meat left on it, anyway.

     “Two rounds,” John says, tattered lips twitching at the corners as he leans forward, placing the gun against the chest of the white corpse.

     “You're going out?” Rose asks, and her tongue feels heavy. She thinks that she might swallow it, if she's not careful.

     “Yeah!” John says, and then tries to let out his usual light, upbeat laugh, but the noise rattles around his ribcage. “Me and Karkat are the leaders, right? It's what we have to do!”

     Rose doesn't argue with him. She doesn't say goodbye, either, but she might nod a little in unspoken understanding. For a few moments, she stares at the gun in front of her, and knows that it'll do absolutely nothing to protect her from those who are already in the house. Eye closed, she listens to the sound of gunfire and groaning outside, and it's oddly rhythmic to her failing ears, like a pattering of rain against a window late at night. But then, all too quickly, the gunfire stops altogether, and then it's not so much a trickle of rain as it is fists pounding at the walls.

     Vriska tenses next to her, mumbling something incoherent in protest as Rose leans forward to pick up the gun from the corpse's chest. While she's there, she makes a point of brushing black hair away from closed eyes, though she can't say why. Leaning back against the wall and appeasing Vriska, Rose carefully places the gun in her lap, and reaches out to take Vriska's hand with the one that isn't wrapped around it. There are great claps of thunder coming from upstairs, where the locked doors are failing them and the piled up furniture is being beaten away. She turns the gun over in her lap, as if looking at it from another angle is going to do anything to save either of them, and knows that it isn't enough. Not enough to defend them, at least.

     “Did you ever think that we'd be the only ones left after the end of everything?” Rose asks, tapping the tip of the gun against her thigh, imagining that Vriska's eyes are on it.

     Vriska doesn't answer immediately, and Rose is glad of the silence, because they aren't going to have much more of it in a minute, if that. In the brief moment of respite that Vriska affords her, where her mind doesn't have to struggle to think and keep itself active, because it's already doing something in waiting for a reply, Rose remembers the bunch of freshly cut zantedeschias that were presented to her by white, nervous hands. She recalls the rich soil smudged across those hands with more clarity than she does the flowers themselves, and with a smile, Rose hears uneven footsteps pound against the staircase.

     The gun clicks in her hand. She brushes a thumb against the back of Vriska's hand, feeling her bare knuckles jut through.

     “Go fuck yourself, Lalonde,” Vriska murmurs, and squeezes Rose's hand very, very tightly.


End file.
